


Crowns of Power

by LateNightMonthly



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtubers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Angst, Bad Ending, Blood, Blood and Gore, Brutal Murder, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gang Violence, Gangs, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt, Killing, Knives, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Murder, Running Away, Threats of Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:02:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24782782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateNightMonthly/pseuds/LateNightMonthly
Summary: George refuses to join a gang, The Vices, after the members ask him to. They want to use his power for their own selfish gain, and George wouldn't let that happen. The leader of the gang, Dream, fed up with George refusing to join, calls a hit on his mother. Feeling that he's got his point across, Dream sends members to get George. But every time, George slips away, and runs off to hide somewhere else. After many attempts and anger building up in The Vices, two members finally catch him. They take him to Dream for questioning, where George is told that he either joins, or he dies.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 55





	Crowns of Power

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS VIOLENT!
> 
> If you are not comfortable with blood, murder, and the like, turn away now!  
> There is no mercy in this story, I just wrote as much as I could for the idea I had in mind. 
> 
> For this story, none of them are YouTubers, George does not know the others, blah blah its a fiction story things aren't as they are in the real world.
> 
> If any of the DreamTeam + BBH expresses they are uncomfy with fanfics, or dislike the violent AUs, this will be taken down.

George moves through the buzz of people, head down and hands stuffed in his hoodie. His eyes flicker above everyone's head, and he pushes his way into the subway car. It's packed, no seats, so he stands in the middle, holding on a pole. 

The next man to enter the train looks around as he does, chest forward and eyes unwavering. George glances above the man's head, and sure enough there's a gentle glowing of a blue crown. His eyes quickly avert from the man, and he pulls out his phone. 

The subway car finally starts moving, and George lets out a sigh of relief; he can't wait to get home. 

The ride is slow, but not too long. When George gets off, he's making his way through the people getting off until he's back under the evening sky. He passes a few others as he walks down the block. One lady, who wore a suit and was holding a heavy looking bag in one hand with her other holding her phone to her ear as she talks about her business, had a bright green crown over her head. 

George walks into his apartment, throwing his backpack aside and pulling off his hoodie. His head hurts, and he just wants to go to sleep. He turns on the television in his room before sliding into his blankets and falling asleep quickly. 

He's woken up by a call around 5AM. He picks it up, groggily asking who it was. He's told to come to his mother's house, there was an accident, but the man on the phone sounds like he's holding something back.

"What kind of accident?" George asks, now fully awake and hurrying around his room to get ready. The man wouldn't say, so George hangs up with frustration before running out his door. His mom's house would be 5 minutes away if he ran fast enough. He didn't have time to take the subway, he's sure. So he sprints down the sidewalk. 

As he turns into the street, he sees two cop cars and an ambulance. His heart sinks, and he runs even faster there. He runs past the police tape, and goes inside, even as one cop yells for him to stop. 

"Where's my mum?" George asks breathlessly towards a paramedic inside. She has a white crown above her. 

"I'm guessing you're her son?" She asks, leading him over to a detective with a brightly glowing blue crown. 

"Yes, I just got the call--" He's still catching his breath as he follows her. He's got a bad feeling about this.

After confirming his identity as his mother's son, George was taken back outside, to the back of the house.

"Your mother was found dead this morning." The detective says, hands in his pockets and a sad look on his face.

George's eyes go wide, and he blinks rapidly, taking in a shaky breath. He could barely process that. 

"We are pretty sure she was murdered." He goes on, pulling out a notepad and writing something on it.

"Murdered?" George repeats. 

"Yes, gun shot. The gun was in her hand but the blood splatter suggests she didn't do it, someone else did." He says, putting a hand on George's shoulder. 

"Oh my God." George whispers, trembling. 

"Did your mom have any enemies? Anyone holding a grudge?" 

"I--I-I don't know. I don't.. I don't think so, she wasn't the kind of.. I don't know--" George scrambles to put his mind together. 

"What about you, is anyone looking out to hurt you?" 

George feels like he might throw up. "No. No, no one."

After more questions, George was let go. He went straight back to his apartment. As shaken up as he was, the fact that his door was unlocked made it worse. He thought he had locked it. 

Slowly, he opens it, walking in with eyes scanning the room. He spots a paper on his table. 

'We've been nice. Either you join us, or we ruin your life. Your mother could have lived, but you were selfish. You know where to find us.' 

George rips up the paper, shouting "Fuck!" As he crumples it and throws it to the ground. Tears roll off his cheeks and he falls into his couch, hiccupping and covering his face. 

After crying his eyes dry, George sits up and stares at his blank TV. They're right, he knows where to find them. He's not joining them though. 

He gets off his couch, heading for his room. There, he grabs his backpack, shoving a pocket knife he pulled from his nightstand inside, as well as a knife he gets from his kitchen, and an extra pair of jeans. Then, he pulls on a dark blue hoodie and brings one of the bag's straps over his shoulder. He pulls on leather gloves before leaving his house. 

The subway was packed, as usual, but at least he got a seat. Twenty minutes later, George is stepping off and taking the stairs up. His eyes cast across the people bustling to get to work. Some of them having their soft glowing crowns over their heads. Blue, white, green, gold, purple, some broken and some glowing brighter than others. 

George grits his teeth as he catches a look at himself in the shiny metal exterior of a tall office building. No crown. 

He turns away and starts walking down the street. It takes ten minutes of walking before he's at the house he wants to be at. George walks up the front steps. He grips the strap of his backpack as he presses the doorbell. 

A woman answers, red crown above her. She grins at George, opening her door and beckoning him in. "I see you've made your decision, George." She says, hand going to her hip. 

George sighs, nodding. He pulls the backpack off his shoulder, holding it in front of him as he looks at her. 

"You'll be useful for once. Isn't that fun? Your little crowns and shit--Honestly I still don't understand how you're right with those every time. I thought you had a condition or something, but you're always right about them. That can't be mental." She laughs, crossing her arms in front of her. "You need to tell me more about it. You told me once I had one, right? Well what's mine for?" She asks, moving a hand to one of his arms, tracing her fingers up to his shoulder.

"Yours says you're a murderer." George says, looking at her through halfway lidded eyes. 

"I thought they told you who was in power." She hums, putting her arm over his shoulder.

George's muscles tense, and he pushes his hand into his backpack before pulling out a knife. After clutching the handle, he realizes it's his kitchen knife. 

"Funny you remembered that." George tells her, dropping his backpack on the ground.

The woman jumps back immediately, eyes widening at the knife. George doesn't give her time to talk before he's plunging it up into her chest. He pulls it out, slashing it across her face. She's screaming, backing into a wall, and her crown is breaking. George pushes the knife into her throat, effectively silencing her as her eyes drop, her red, broken crown flickering out of sight. 

George lets her body drop to the ground, stepping back. His hands are twitching. He goes into her bathroom and starts washing the blood off his knife, gloves, and face. Once that's done, he pulls his hoodie and pants off. He tugs on the clean pair of jeans from his backpack before shoving his bloodied clothes into it. 

After making sure he wasn't tracking any blood with his shoes, George leaves the house, walking down the street slowly and casually. He wasn't worried about being caught, she was notorious for having enemies and since she's in a gang they'd suspect at least 30 people before they started looking elsewhere. But even then, he wasn't known, he's not worked with anyone before, no gangs and no one else, and he doesn't have anything on his criminal record except a warning for some weed he had about a year ago. 

As he steps back into his home, he gets to work on scrubbing the blood out of those clothes. 

The others will probably find out soon. And they'll know it was him, so he needs to leave. That's, what, the third person in their group he's killed? That's probably the last straw. 

They call themselves The Vices, and their morals are a dark grey. Half of their members are so called 'good' while the other half is worse. The 'good' ones go after thought-to-be murderers and kill them. The bad ones, though, they're all over the place. Normally they only kill those in other gangs, but some of the worst ones are tasked with killing innocent people when their leader decided it had to be done. 

George's never met the leader, he's always only gotten letters and passed along messages from them. He sort of wonders if there actually was one, or if it was just some kind of 'there's a group of them who are considered the leader's' type deal. 

After his clothes have been washed of the blood, he throws them over his shower curtain to dry. George grabs a full bookbag out of his closet. He's had it for a while now, he always knew he was going to have to run at some point. Inside was essentials and extra money. After glancing around his room, he grabs a picture frame off his dresser. It was him and his mom at his 18th birthday. He takes it out if the frame and shoves it into his bag. 

Pulling on a black hoodie, George slings the bookbag over his shoulder. He grabs his other bag, pulling the pocket knife out of it and stuffing it into the front pocket of the bag he was using. Once he was sure he had everything, he slipped out of his apartment door, making his way down the flights of stairs to the bottom. George steps out of the building with a harshly beating heart. He spots a red crown across the street, and he's slipping into the crowd, walking the other way. 

As George walks into the subway, he passes some posters for politicians. Most of them just had gold or green crowns, one of them had a red one, but none of them were without a crown. George sighs, shaking his head as he walks into a subway car. After sitting down, he sinks back in his seat, gazing around the car. It wasn't very packed, there was at least a seat between everybody. 

Then something catches his eye. A man walks through the doors to get on at a stop, sitting down on the other side of the car. George's heart beats hard. He's never seen a black crown before. It's been 23 years of seeing them, understanding the colors, but he's never seen a black crown. 

What makes that man so special? George realizes he's staring, and looks away. The guy looked way too normal, George could go as far as to say he looked innocent. But the crown was giving him anxiety. He can only guess the black crown meant something bad, since the glowing white crowns were good: Yin and Yang, right? 

George gets off at the next stop, casting one more glance to the crown before stepping out. He's walking away when he hears a "George!" being shouted over the noise. He turns back, seeing that man walking towards him. His eyes widen, and he turns back around, slipping around people and trying to run up the stairs. 

As he gets out under the sun, into the street, he looks back again. When he sees no one, he hurries off towards the corner, taking a turn and hopefully having lost the guy. 

How did he know his name? 

George's body shivers. He runs a hand through his hair as he walks down the street, looking around. 

God, they fucking killed his mum. He wishes he could go to all of their houses and get revenge, but he knows some of them are way too strong. At this point they've probably all found out already, they'll be waiting for him with guns and knives at every corner. 

George spots the sign of a motel, and starts walking towards it. He pulls his bag over, rummaging in it for his emergency wallet. Once he pulls it out, he makes sure he has his fake ID in it, and counts out the bills he has. $200 should be more than enough. 

Walking into the motel, he asks for a room for the day and night. They check his ID, it saying his name was Jason and he was 21. They give him a room for $55. He takes the key after paying and goes into his room. It was only 10 in the morning, but he felt safer here than out on the streets. 

He throws his backpack on the floor before taking out his phone and plugging in his charger, putting it on the nightstand. After putting his phone on charge, he turns on the TV, sitting back in the uncomfortable bed. 

George doesn't do anything all day. By the time it's dark out, he's still on the bed, watching TV. His stomach grumbles for food, and he decides he probably needs to go buy some things to eat. Slinging his backpack on his shoulder once more, George leaves the motel and makes his way down the road. He walks into a convenience store. He grabs a couple water bottles, a Monster energy, some various snacks and then a gas station hot dog. Once he pays, he's walking back towards the hotel, bag in his hand as he eats the hot dog. 

Back in his motel room, George munches on a granola bar as he goes through his backpack. He pulls out the picture he put in there. He frowns as he runs his finger over the picture of his mother. Her long brown hair up in a bun, her favorite party outfit on, and she was hugging George, who was grinning wide at the camera. He looked so much like his mom, it was kind of funny to see them both in a picture together because of it. 

Some tears welled up in his eyes, but he closed them and forces himself not to cry. He puts the picture back before tossing his bag on the ground and curling up on the hard bed. Closing his eyes again, George tries to go to sleep. It takes him a good part of fifteen minutes, but finally under the noise of the city outside and the TV on some random infomercial, he falls asleep. 

He's woken up by a knocking at the door. George slowly wakes up, and he slowly gets up, calling a "One second!" out to the person behind the door. He's still half asleep, but that doesn't make him stupid. He checks the peephole, and when he sees a familiar face with a red crown, his heart thuds hard. He had a feeling they'd find him, but not this quickly. 

George grabs his things, shoving them unceremoniously into his bag. Then, he bounds for the window, opening it and sliding out. He hears a louder knock on his door as he lands on the dirt right outside a few feet below. The moment he can, he's sprinting away from the building. 

George runs some streets over before he slows down, coming to a walking speed on the sidewalk. He breathes hard, looking behind him to make sure no one was following. He pulls his hood over his head, keeping his head down and hands in his pockets as he walks, blending into the other's walking along the sidewalk. 

Soon, he finds himself back on the subway. Though this time, he doesn't have a plan on where to go. He rides for a while, staring out the window and thinking on his next move. He doesn't think he can go back to his apartment for at least a few days. And he obviously can't go back to the motel. 

George sighs, rubbing his face as he looks at his phone. He ends up getting out of the subway at the next stop, walking out and looking for a new motel. He doesn't have enough money for a hotel room, he has to make do with the cheap motels around the city. 

He walks into a different motel. This one looks almost rundown. He pays for a $50 room, and heads in. George falls onto the bed front first and stays there, feeling numb and confused. His life has just been flipped on its head, and even if he knew it was coming, this was not how he expected it to happen. 

God, Mum didn't deserve that. 

He's suddenly gasping for a breath as he cries, tears welling and spilling over his eyes into the blanket under him. His hands clench and he bangs his fist into the bed a few times. 

George falls asleep after he finishes crying, snoring against the pillow with dried tears over his cheeks. He wakes up an hour later, his head pounding. With a groan, he gets up, and searches through his bag for some water. After chugging half the bottle, he checks his phone. There's a text from an unknown number that says 'You fucked up.' 

After a frustrated sigh, George gets up and heads into the bathroom. He looks at himself in the mirror with half-lidded eyes for a few moments. Finally, he splashes water into his face from the sink, effectively waking him up as he washes his face. 

When he leaves the bathroom, George sends a message to the number that says 'leave me alone. im not joining'. 

He doesn't know if it'll get delivered to them or not, they probably used some fake number or maybe a burner phone. Either way, it calms his rage a bit. 

Speaking of rage, he sits down on the bed, head in his hands. 

Fuck. Fuck fucking fuck. He's wants to hunt down the fucking leader and beat their face into the ground so hard they can't have an open casket funeral. That son of a bitch. God, he... He doesn't know what to do. He can't hunt down whoever the leader is, that's fucking stupid. He only knows one other member's home address. Should he even try? They'll be watching out for him, he can't. He supposes he just has to stay on the run for a couple weeks, maybe go up to his dad's place. They don't know he even knows his dad, so they probably wouldn't come up there, it's a long drive. 

George sighs, he guesses that's the best plan he's got for now. He'll stay tonight in this motel and head up to his father's in the morning. 

After pulling up his contact, George sends his dad 'coming to town tomorrow. can i visit?' 

He knows his dad won't say no, he'll even insist on him staying with him while he's in town, instead of some hotel. His dad is one of those 'I'll be the best father in the world' but goes on to never actually speak to their children about anything except 'how was school' type dad. George hardly feels like even calling him his father, but habits are hard to break. 

George sighs as he gets the immediate: 'Of course! I will be home all day, come by whenever.' because he knows that his dad won't be there, he'll have to let himself in with the spare key under the flower pot. He leaves him on read and drops his phone on the bed, laying back. 

He grabs something to eat out of his backpack as he watches the TV that only shows saturated colors on the screen. It was very eye straining, so after maybe an hour he turns it off and just scrolls through his phone for the rest of the day. 

George falls asleep that night hoping he didn't wake up to a knocking in the morning. When he does wake up, George is met with light blinding him from the window. With a groan, he turns over, throwing his arm over his eyes. But he was already awake, and he knew he needed to go as soon as possible. 

So he sits up, grumbling and getting ready. He checks out, and gets on the subway down to his mom's house. As he walks up, there's still some police tape around the home. His throat closes up and he bites his lip as he walks over to the garage and opens it with a pin. He unlocks his mom's Jeep and gets in, driving it out and closing the garage door. He has a key to it because he doesn't have a car himself, and he often walks over to her house to use her Jeep for longer trips or when he doesn't have money for the subway or a bus. 

With a sigh and slightly shaky hands, he starts on his way up the road. He turns on the radio and blasts it as he drives down the highways for about an hour. He takes a break, parking in a gas station and filling up the tank while going inside and grabbing something to eat and drink. 

After about two more hours of driving, George is only half an hour away from his dad's place. The half hour goes slower than the rest, and he feels slightly numb, which isn't fun to feel when you have to be driving. 

Finally, he's pulling into the driveway of his dad's house. With a sigh, he grabs his phone to shoot his dad a text, because his car isn't in the driveway, meaning he wasn't home.

George gets out of the Jeep and grabs the key from under the flower pot, because he knows that's what he'll be told to do anyways. He steps inside, slinging his bag into the couch and then falling back onto it himself. 

His phone dings at him, and sure enough his dad texted him back those directions. George shoves his phone into his pocket and closes his eyes. 

George is woken up by the sound of the door opening. He sits up, blinking open his eyes to see his dad coming in. "Hey." George says, giving a short wave. 

"Hey! Good to see ya. I've got to go put my things away, then I'll be back down!" His father says, hurrying up the stairs. Yeah, he's not gonna come back down. 

Whatever, it's not like George is here for him anyways. 

After a moment of thought, George takes his bag and goes up to what was 'his room'. He last used it, maybe, 3 years ago, and before then it was only once a year. It had that teenage boy vibe to it when he walked in, but that was expected. The band posters and a few video game ones. Blackout curtains and a computer for games.

The computer was bought by one of his dad's old girlfriends. George used to love it, but as he got older and started getting into shit with others, he lost that passion for it. 

Of course he still plays video games and whatever, but not as much, and not as intensely as he used to. Sighing, George sat in the chair and booted up the computer. He's surprised his dad hasn't asked to sell it, but he doubts he ever needed the money. What's more surprising though is that he himself forgot about it. He gives a soft chuckle at the thought as he watches the computer boot up. It needs to be updated, which makes sense, so he lets it do its thing, the screen telling him it'll take more than five hours to complete. 

Well, whatever. He gets up out of the chair and pulls back the blankets on the bed. At least his dad dusted and kept shit clean, otherwise it'd be gross in here. 

He notices a few boxes in the corner, but he doesn't care, this is barely his room. Could he even still call it that now that he was an adult? It doesn't matter too much either way, though. 

George spent the rest of the day on his phone or watching TV. He went to bed at about 9pm, exhausted from his driving earlier. 

1AM, George's phone is ringing. He groans, barely blinking open his eyes as he grabs it and puts it up to his ear. 

"Hello?" 

"If you think leaving the state will save you, you're an idiot. We're giving you one more chance." A man spoke, his voice distorted on the line. 

George takes in a breath, rubbing his face and then bringing the hand into his hair. That's not good.

"What would it take for you to leave me alone?" George asks.

"You join or you die." 

George ends the call and with an angry grunt he throws his phone across his room. He knew it, he did, he knew that their patience was running thin with him, but he didn't want to believe he only had two options. It seemed for sure now, though.

George quickly gets up, grabbing his things and stuffing them into his bag. He hops into the Jeep and backs out of the driveway. The stars above him are bright, and the moon was half full, it was pretty, but he didn't have time to care about it. He drove for a while, down roads he didn't know, until he finally got onto a freeway. There, he follows as far as he can for as long as he can, wanting to get as far away as he could. 

He didn't really have enough money for another motel, he doesn't know what to do. As the moon is nearing the horizon, George's eyes are barely capable of staying open. He drives himself to some abandoned parking lot next to a trail, hidden with trees. He climbs into the back and curls up, passing out almost immediately. 

George wakes up to his legs being pulled, some cloth bag closed around his head. He yells, grabbing for anything he can, but he can't see and he just woke up, his mind is foggy. He's able to grab onto his backpack strap and sling it into his arm. 

Though, adrenaline is kicking in fast, and he's kicking and squirming away from the hands until he's running, trying to pull off the bag on his head. He gets it off just in time not to run into a tree, taking a turn and sprinting away while pulling his backpack on. 

But someone tackles him, and he feels a hard bang on his head before he blacks out. 

George wakes up with a pounding headache, he's dizzy and his whole body stings. He can't see anything, he's presuming the cloth bag is around him again. 

He's too exhausted and in pain to fight, too exhausted and in pain to cry. He just sits there. 

After a moment he realizes he's in a car, maybe a van. There's two people talking, bickering about something but laughing. His hands are tied in front of him, he realizes now, as he twists his wrists in the rope around them. 

"Dream said he wanted him alive, we can't just kill him because you want to." One guy says. 

"Bad, this dude has fucking killed like 3 of our Vices. I want to just fucking crash is head into a rock." The other responds. 

"Calm down, I'm sure when Dream wants him dead he'll get you to do it." 'Bad' says. 

"I hope so." The other says, huffing in frustration. 

George tries pulling off the bag on his head with his fingers. It's harder than it seems, it's tied to stay on, and he has limited fingers to work with. 

"Wai- Hey! He's awake-- Sapnap get back there and stop him!" Bad yells. 

George hears someone crawl over the front seat, and then suddenly his head is being pinned to the floor of the car, by 'Sapnap' as he's guessing. 

"Let me go!" George yells, struggling. 

"I'm going to bash you in the head again--" Sapnap says. 

"Don't kill him yet!" Bad yells back, but George's heart still races with his fight or flight response. 

"Stop moving!" Sapnap says, pulling George to sit up before punching him in the face through the cloth. George groans, dropping back. His nose might start bleeding from that. And, oh, yeah, he tastes blood, it is bleeding. He spits out blood, coughing. 

George feels the bag being pulled off his head. Sapnap stares down at him, eyes cold. Above him shone a red crown, brighter than any other red one George's seen before. 

A shiver involuntarily runs through him, and his eyes dart to the driver, Bad. He had a red crown, but it didn't shine so brightly. 

"Do you know what you fucking did?" Sapnap asks George, slapping him. 

"Fuck you." George snarls. 

"Very funny. We're taking you to Dream. You're in big fucking trouble, George." Sapnap hisses out. 

" _I'm so scared!_ " George says sarcastically, even though he was actually terrified. "Fuck whoever Dream is, you guys killed my fucking mum!" 

Bad laughs from his seat, shaking his head. "Well Dream knows you. He's got some things to tell you." 

"How much further?" Sapnap asks, taking a glance out the window. 

"Maybe five minutes. Knock him out again if you have to, just don't break his skull." Bad responded. 

George bites his lip hard, teeth gritting. He'd make it five minutes, and then he'll make a break for it. He leans back, and feels the backpack on him still. That's good, that's useful, he has his knife in there. 

"Tell us about the crowns." Sapnap says. 

"You're a piece of shit." George tells him. 

"Come on, be nice, maybe if you just open up we won't have to kill you." Sapnap says, grinning. 

"I'm not joining. I'm not telling you who to kill." George looks away, jaw clenched. 

"We know you see them on those with power, right?" Sapnap goes on, as if George didn't just refuse to say anything. 

George stays silent as Sapnap continues, "I know there's a rumor that you can tell who's a murderer. That's why Dream wants you. You'd be helping to kill murderers, you know." 

"You're a murderer. You're a fucking serial killer for all I know." George spits, hands clenching in fists. 

Sapnap laughs, nodding, "Sure, yeah. I just kill the killers, baby." He says, putting a hand up. 

Finally, the moving stops, but the cloth bag is being pulled back on his head. George struggles, but not as much as he wishes he could. His body hurts and he's tired. 

He's pulled out of the van, and walked across from gravel. Suddenly they stop, and pull the bag off his head. George's eyes dart around, and it's only him, Bad, Sapnap, and one other. George's hands are untied then, but he knows that won't help him in this situation. 3v1 isn't a fair fight. 

He's shaking, heart thumping in his ears. Oh God, this is where he dies. This is really it. 

"George." 

It's that voice from the subway, he blinks his eyes hard, sight focusing. He's met with that man with the black crown. 

"You--" George chokes slightly, stepping back. 

"Come on, you know me don't you? I should be your boss right now." He says, grinning. 

"Dream?" 

"Yes, correct. Now tell me why my friends here are telling me you won't join us?" Dream asks, arms crossing as he nods his head towards Sapnap and Bad. 

"Because I won't. I'd rather die." George says, voice a little softer than he would have liked. 

Dream laughs, a hand running over his face and through his hair. "You're a funny one. You are funny." He says, his laugh dying down to a chuckle, "Sapnap." Dream snaps to the side. 

Sapnap takes a step over to George, and then he punches him across his face, hard. George stumbles back, hand going to his cheek as it throbs in pain. 

"At least I'm not going to turn out like you. Piece of shit running a fucking gang--" George's punched to the other side by Bad, eyes watering from it. 

"All your friends, all of you, red crowns! Murderers!" George yells, pushing Sapnap away when he comes back towards him. 

Bad grabs George's arms, holding them behind his back as Sapnap kicks him in the stomach. 

George wheezes in pain, dropping to his knees. "Sons of bitches. Fuck The Vices." He says, blood dripping from his nose. Sapnap knees him in the face, sending him over onto his back, hands shooting up to hold his forehead where it hit. 

"Stop." Dream says calmly, and Sapnap steps back, hands clenched hard. Bad steps away too, pulling Sapnap away a little further. 

"Dream, I don't.. I don't doubt you're a murderer too." George says, rolling over onto his stomach to try and get back up. 

"Mhm, why do you say that?" Dream says, still standing exactly where he has been the whole time.

"You don't have a red crown. Your crown glows black. I-- I don't know what that means, you're the only.." George coughs, standing up on shaky legs. "You're the only one I've ever seen. What in God's name have you done to deserve that?" George finishes, breathing hard with pain. 

Dream nods a bit, smiling. He walks towards George. "I've done a lot of things. Maybe it's for having killed so many? I lost count after it reached 100. Sure they're not all by my hands, you know I have my Vices to do the dirty work." Dream paces slowly, "Well, you're smart, you figure it out." He finished. 

"I'm not figuring out _shit_ ." George holds his stomach, panting.

Dream hums and moves right up to George. He sends a glance to Bad and Sapnap, who hurry over and grab George's arms. Dream pulls his fist back before knocking George's head to the side with a punch.

"Join or die." Dream says calmly, though aggressively grabbing the other's collar. 

George gathers blood and saliva in his mouth before spitting it in Dream's face. 

Dream steps back, wipes his face off with a snarl, and turns around. "Fuck him up, leave him to die." He says, waving his hand as he walks away. 

Bad takes both of George's arms, and then Sapnap is punching him hard over and over again. He can barely get in a breath between them. His head is hanging to the side, blood dripping from his nose and lips. 

After Bad lets go of him, George sinks to his knees before Sapnap kicks him in the chest. He falls over, tears falling from his eyes. He can move if he tries, but he's so tired, he doesn't want to. It hurts to move a finger. 

"Let's go grab the van and bring it over, we can take his dead body to the dump." Sapnap says, kicking George hard in the side, making him wheeze. 

The two start walking away on the gravel. George tries turning over and crawling, but he can't even get more than a few feet before the van is rolling up and they're grabbing his dead weight and putting him in. 

George watches Bad get in the driver's seat and start the van. Sapnap takes out his phone and calls someone.

"Did you want to meet us at the dump? We're thinking about putting him in the crusher, if you wanted to come see." Sapnap says into his phone.

The crusher does not sound nice, and George's heart starts speeding up again.

"Okay, see you there." Sapnap puts his phone away. "Dream will be there in half an hour." He tells Bad. 

"He could have just taken the van with us." Bad sighs, shaking his head. 

Sapnap shrugs, and looks on his phone. Bad continues to drive, every now and again glancing back at George. 

George felt like shit, but he was lucky he looked worse than he felt. Maybe it was the adrenaline, still, but he was working back up his energy. And 30 minutes should be a good amount of time for him to recover enough. 

The fog in his head is clearing slightly, thanks to the soft drizzle of rain that had started . Dark clouds covered the sun, so George couldn't really tell what time it was. He didn't have his phone or any of his things-- 

Wait. His backpack, he has his backpack. 

Pulling it from over his shoulders, George keeps an eye on the two up front as he looks through it. His fingers brush over his pocket knife, and finally he has some hope. 

"Bad, turn right, we're here." Sapnap says, pointing to the parking lot for the dump. 

George puts the knife in his pocket, and the two get out. They drag him--George pretending to be more hurt than he was-- between some broken fence towards a large garbage compactor. They leave him at the side before going up to it to check it out.

George knows it's now or never. He stands up, grabs his pocket knife and flicks it open. He comes up behind Sapnap, limping slightly. He stabs the knife into his throat, then slices it out, blood gushing onto his hands as the other falls.

Bad shouts, and he's backing up, checking his pockets for weapons.

George lunges forward, shoving the knife into his stomach. Bad punches him back, but George keeps hold of the knife, pulling it out. He slashes it over Bad's face, kicking him back and then jumping on him and stabbing it into his chest a few times. 

By the time George stands up, there's blood basically covering him, way more than before when it was just his own. He feels sick, the smell and the sight is horrible. He gags, and then pukes, holding his stomach as he leans over. 

He hears a car pulling up, and there's only one thing on his mind as he wipes his mouth off with his wrist. George wants revenge. It's well deserved, he believes. 

He slowly walks around the machine, seeing a nice car backing into a space. George is running for it immediately. The door opens, and Dream stands up out of it. He turns, and when he sees George, his face drops. Dream freezes for a second before he reaches behind him, tugging out the gun from his belt. 

Dream aims, shoots, but misses, giving George enough time to sprint closer. He reaches out, grabbing Dream by his hair and slamming his head into the door of the car. The gun goes off, and George feels a searing hot pain in the side of his arm. The bullet hit right across the skin, luckily not inwards enough to lodge inside. 

George shoves his knife into Dream's chest. He wrestles for the pistol, and in pain from the stab, Dream lets it go. George steps back, holding the gun and aiming at Dream. 

Dream's crown has broken, it's slowly breaking further into smaller pieces. George notices a dark glowing from the side of his eye. He casts his gaze to the car's side mirror, it showing him his reflection. Above him, a black crown.

Dream pulls the knife from his chest and moves for him. George doesn't hesitate, pressing the trigger. Dream stumbles back into his car, hand going over the hold in the side of his chest. 

George shoots him again before he's backing up, turning to run away. Suddenly, there's a new searing hot pain in his chest, forcing him forwards, almost stumbling and falling over. He brings a hand up, holding his chest as he turns back to look.

Dream was holding another pistol, a hand over one of his wounds. He shoots at George again, and George falls down with the second shot going into his stomach. 

George lays in the gravel, curling up in pain and sobbing out. It hurt so bad, he was going to die. This was it. 

He watches as Dream slumps over, falling down on the gravel and ceasing to breathe as his black crown dissipates. George cries harder, knowing he's next. He's praying, and he's never prayed before but he is now, because he doesn't want to die.

With the last of his adrenaline, he's able to pull himself, crawling towards the car. He climbs up into it, shoving Dream's body out of the way. His head was spinning, and he was dizzy from blood loss.

One last time he looks in the mirror. His newfound crown was breaking, cracking into dust. One last full breath and George slumps back in the seat, struggling for air. His vision goes black around the edges, and slowly he closes his eyes as darkness envelopes him.

**Author's Note:**

> I got my inspiration for this from a PMV I saw on YouTube. If you look up "Bury Me Face Down PMV" it will be the one made by Schnitt404. It's such an emotional video and I love it. All I could picture was the DreamTeam + BBH doing manhunts. 
> 
> Now about the crowns, if anyone asks me to explain some things about it I can, but I will only say to those who want to hear, as to not spoil the mystery for others. They're as straight forward as I could make it without directly coming out and putting it out there during narration.
> 
> I spent all day writing this instead of chapters for my other stories.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! <3 
> 
> Also, as a side note, I originally wrote the whole thing with Dream and George's places swapped, but I realized that it didn't fit right, so I switched it and fixed some things up and here we are! So if I missed something in the story that sounds off, that might be the reason why.


End file.
